Snow Spock and the Prince (Space: The Final Funtier Part 2)
by Hades-the-Sexy
Summary: Part 2 of Space: The Final Funtier. Spirk. Comedy. Spock, Jim, Mccoy and a couple of redshirts beam down to a planet for talks and study. However, a certain Queen has her eye on Jim and his perfect hair, but is obsessed with the fact that while Spock still has his sass, Jim will never be hers. Will she succeed in her plans? Can Mccoy and his legendary hands save the day this time?
1. The Truth Behind Spck's Green Blood

**The Truth Behind Spock's Green Blood is Revealed**

Queen Et-Kree-An of Yalski 6 rested in bed, dying from a nasty case of Throat Withering. She was alone, apart from a Telepathic Reflector in the shape of a large mirror on her wall, but she did not look in it. Throat Withering was not exactly the prettiest picture. But, besides the whole Throat Withering business, she was unhappy. Her husband, as was tradition of West Yalski 6 had married the most intelligent woman on the planet (besides her, of course) to be Queen. But Et-Kree-An knew this harlot. Intelligent, but a real meanie. She couldn't let that smart yet terribly awful person rule West Yalski 6. So she, after reluctantly viewing her worsening Throat Withering, turned on the Telepathic Reflector and set it to max.

"Oh Deities far and wide, to all reaches of the galaxy…please bring us someone with skin as white as snow, hair as black as ebony…and a mind even greater than the new Queen, Rhet-Yule-An." And with that, Queen Et-Kree-An died.

.***

"Captain, Yalski 6 will be in communications range within precisely one minute." Spock lifted his ebony-black hair and snow-white skinned face from his scanner to look at his kitork little Captain and that mathematically perfect, perfect hair. He had tried to figure out through many graphs and equations just how fal Jim's hair managed to attain such perfection, but even with all his logic and science, the results had been inconclusive.

"59 seconds. 58 seconds. 57 seconds…" Sulu began a gleeful countdown. Spock was not certain why, but the helmsman always seemed to take delight in numerical countdowns, especially those that entailed the certain death of all the crew aboard the Enterprise. Unless Sulu could sense something Spock's fantastic and much superior Vulcan awareness could sense, then there was an unusual amount of glee in this particular countdown.

"Uhura in – "

" - 33 seconds…"

"- open communications to the Yalskian people and request whether we can fulfil our orders from Starfleet to land on their planet, discuss trading options, and study their unique flora and fauna." Petakov pla'kruslar Jim eyeballed her with those intense eyes that had caused lesser humanoids to faint.

"Yes, Captain." Uhura did not faint. Uhura was not a lesser humanoid. "Confirmation coming through now. Permission granted. The King and Queen of West Yalski 6 will await your arrival."

"Good." Jim rose. "Mr Spock, with me. Alert Doctor Mccoy and a couple of security members to be at the transporter room in five minutes. Tell Scotty we will be ready to beam out in 5 and that he has the conn while I am away."

.***

"Welcome to our beloved planet, Starfleet Officers." The Queen, a tall humanoid with sharp teeth, a rhombus-shaped face and four, clawed hands waved them into a large palace. It was seemingly created of blue and purple fibreglass. The King also stood there, but he looked as hauntingly vacant as Sulu was every time he was affected by a happy drug.

"Well hello there." Jim kan-bu flashed a smile that had defied all science and literally melted reconstituted butter. With his powerful Vulcan ears, Spock could hear Mccoy's almighty eye-roll.

"Is there something on the ceiling, Doctor?" He looked toward the significantly out-eyeshadowed man as Jim took the Queen by two of her arms and began his 'trading' talks. The King followed, undisturbed by their manner.

"No Spock, I am just trying to take in the entirety of Jim's ego with my inferior little human eyes." Spock noted an overwhelming note of the tone 'sarcasm' in Mccoy's statement. Fascinating.

"Doctor, ego is an intangible idea, unable to be perceived by vision as we know it. And Jim is relatively humble by human standards, I believe." That particular, annoyed eyebrow raise meant his sass had reached a highly acceptable level.

"Yeah, yeah, I know Spock. Come on, let's find out how scientifically and medically interesting this flora and fauna really is before Jim gets a marriage proposal." Spock's eyebrow joined Mccoy's in a beautiful symphony of perfectly raised face hair.

"Mccoy, the Queen is already married."

"Exactly. Come on." Spock's very logical and mathematical brain considered joining the Captain, just to make sure the talks had….. a more logical opinion. But he had his mission. Ekon-ak'shem Jim had been fine many times before, and thus by rule of percentages, should be fine this time too.

Mccoy secretly wondered if Spock's blood was green because he internalized his jealousy so much. No wonder he sometimes burst out in angry fits and punched the Captain, always and only the Captain, in the face. Well, once Spock had tried to kill Jim with a footstool. But internalizing feelings will do that to you.

* * *

A/N:

PART TWOOOO hahaha I have too much fun with these and I hope they're a giggle for you guys too :P

Spock tried to kill Jim with a footstool in This Side of Paradise.

Site for my Vulcan: /vld/

I always love to hear what you all think, even if it's just clickin' the fav button n.n


	2. Eating Spock Would be the Moral Choice

**Eating Spock Would be the Most Moral Choice**

Queen Rhet-Yule-An had never felt so attracted to anything in her entire life. Intelligence was incredibly attractive, but…but…how did this human have such impeccable, pure and flawless hair? Jim Kirk's perfect hair was too good to let go. Too good for this world. She had to have him. Even as a pet. She looked at him across the table: That gold, sparkly command insignia logo seemed to wink at her in the dim mood lighting she had so hurriedly arranged. The lack of arms was a bit weird, but the hair made up for it.

She had to have him. Which meant she had to make sure she was the most attractive being on Yalsiki, otherwise this fine prize would certainly leave her.

Meanwhile, Jim Kirk was becoming a little unnerved at how this alien woman was staring at him, unblinking and silent with no expression for what seemed like minutes now. But he wouldn't let that cut through his smoulder. Number one James T. Kirk tip for a successful trade talk: Perfect The Smoulder.

"Excuse me, for just one moment Captain, oh my Captain." The Queen gave what she hoped was a dainty smile, but to Jim was just a relief from what seemed like eternal staring.

"Of course." He gave a dashing smirk, then proceeded to suck nutrients from the nourishment-pot like a vacuum cleaner. Perfection.

Queen Rhet-Yule-An dashed to her lavish chambers and unveiled the old Queen's Telepathic Reflector.

"Oh Telepathic Reflector on the wall, who has the best intellect of them all?" She flicked her bright green hair. It always told her the same thing, but she just needed to hear it.

"Queen Rhet-Yule-An, you are intelligent, thus fair indeed, but the newcomer Spock has taken the lead." No. No! That bowl cut would haunt her mind until its bearer was dead. Hideous, hideous bowl cut.

"Servant!" Her small, spiderlike maid crept in. "Fetch me a Hunter. I want this Spock's heart!"

Meanwhile, Jim turned to the King in the dining hall, smoulder and intense eyes blazing. The King promptly fainted.

Commander Spock was frolicking among the grass and flowers and wildlife like a free and happy Vulcan. Which meant rigidly standing there, staring at tricorder readings. A cloud of flies buzzed in the background. Or was that Mccoy telling him he was unemotional? He did not care. They were both equally irrelevant. What he did notice, however, was that the insects were not biting, although equipped for it, and were swarming about him. Fascinating. Perhaps it was his blood composition?

A rustle in the foliage. A large animal, by the tricorder reading. He whipped out his phaser as fast as suk sakal Jim had whipped out his genitalia at a previous Jaegerbomb Tuesday (or for Spock himself, Chocolate Tuesday). Which was at an astounding velocity, even if Spock did think so himself. The creature was a Yalsikian Hunter; covered in brown fur and howling like Lieutenant Thomas Riley singing an Irish melody for the two hundredth time (Spock had counted) through the ships coms that one time. It missed him by approximately 6.5 inches which was, by a great coincidence, also the size of Jim's genitalia. Not that he had been really paying that much attention or anything. It had just been…scientifically fascinating.

In the second it took Spock to break out of that fond memory, the creature turned, foaming mouth and all, toward the Vulcan. He pointed his phaser straight at the beast. The weapon crackled like the thousands of chocolate wrappers Spock had dug himself out of in said previous Jaegerbomb Tuesday and did not affect the Hunter at all. Fascinating, Spock thought as he was tackled to the ground by what seemed to be a mountain of fur. He did not let the minor clawing affect him too much as he set his phaser to maximum. In fact he could have yawned, if Vulcans expressed tiredness in a herd mentality. What he did register was the animal stabbing a blade of some sort into the upper left side of his chest before the phaser blast disintegrated his assailant.

While Commander Spock was being ripped into green-tinged shreds, Doctor Mccoy had found himself a little abandoned cottage. Quite homely really, for an alien planet. It had several small beds that looked like they had not been used in decades, and a kitchen that somehow made him just really want to cook a hearty, old-fashioned roast dinner. Ahh, but he couldn't tempt Jim like that. That kid had to lose 3lbs! And, as the Head Surgeon, he should also probably try to put an end to Jaegerbomb Tuesday before it went terribly and predictably wrong. He was surprised all – most – of the redshirts has survived so far. Well, he was actually surprised they still had redshirts left. Apart from Scotty and Uhura of course, but even Scotty had died at least once. Mccoy made a mental note to keep an eye on Uhura. Just as this thought passed, his communicator bleeped.

"D…ter Mcc..y, Med… …gency! Co-ordin…. 2-3 b.. 7-6." If Uhura was the emergency, he was probably going to hurl himself into the sun from sheer predictability of the situation. There was always some goddamn off ship medical emergency or landing party trip or something. Muttering incomprehensible obscenities to himself, Doctor Mccoy rose and started to run toward the co-ordinates.

"My god man!" Seeing two redshirts standing over a bleeding Spock was actually going down in his Medical Log as a moment in history. Opposite day much. The Vulcan was lying, covered in scorched brown fur and green blood, with a knife protruding out of where his heart should have been if he were human.

"He should be dead!" Kiley the redshirt was kneeling beside Spock's prone form, tears pouring down her face. Well, it could be worse. He could be alive. Some sort of sandfly buzzed around them.

"Come on Ensign, we all know Spock doesn't have a heart." Mccoy stabbed his commanding officer with a compound to stop the bleeding, then stabbed him with shock treatment and stabbed him with an anaesthetic just for good measure. Stabbing fellow officers with hyposprays was his vibe. He then peered up at the two redshirts, eyebrow gaining dangerous height. Yeah, yeah, he knew Spock's biological heart was actually much lower on the far side of the left ribcage, but these twerps could be forever be dazzled by the myth of Heartless Spock. "Did either of you call the Enterprise?"

No wonder redshirts had a high mortality rate. Stupid-asses. One of them pulled out a communicator, shaking as the formidable eyebrow reached terrifying new heights.

"Kiley to Enterprise." The thing crackled and then literally crumbled. Sandflies buzzed out in a small swarm.

"Dammit!" Mccoy checked his own phaser and communicator, but they had been eaten too. His medical equipment seemed safe in the bag, however. "The palace is too far away. I found a cottage not far from here."

Well, he shouldn't really move a patient in this condition, but it was Spock. This piece of elvish bowl-cut wouldn't die if you cut his head off and played baseball with it. Of course, he'd never tested that theory. But space was a wonderful death-filled place. Perhaps one day it would give him the chance.

"Well help me pick him up! Dammit, I'm a doctor, not a stretcher!" Oh look, there they were again, stranded on a goddamn alien planet with no communication with the Enterprise. Mccoy swore if this happened again, he was going to stab himself in the face with a hypospray. And then he was going to stab Jim with a hypospray, because that was just fun.

"Mccoy, what should we do!" Ensign Kiley cried as they lugged Spock's fat Vulcan ass through the woods. "We have no contact with the Enterprise, no food, no water and Commander Spock…"

"Now don't you worry kiddo." The Doctor had never thought he'd be wandering on a woodland walk with Spock in his arms. "There's water at the cottage, and if we get hungry, well Spock isn't looking too good anyway."

"Doctor, how can you say that?" She looked lovingly down at that logical and slightly dead face. Well it's not as if it would be entirely cannibalistic. If they were going to eat anyone, Spock would be the most moral choice.

"Ahh, I'm kidding with ya kiddo, Spock likes annoying me too much to die on me." Maybe he should make Spock eat salads too. Those Vulcanian buttocks felt as if they were made of lead. The other redshirt opened the cottage door, and they hauled the Commander onto the table.

"Now Kiley, you're gonna be my Nurse." Another thing he never thought he'd do was violently rip Spock's shirt off. Today was full of the unexpected. "You! Other redshirt. Go run to the palace and tell Jim what's happened."

If the asshat listened or not, he didn't care. He had a patient. Mccoy took out his laser scalpel and wiped the green blood from around the knife. It was only a body cavity for Vulcans, so no organs to piece back together.

"Ready Nurse?" She nodded, and he yanked the thing out. Spock squelched in a logical tone, but didn't do much else. "Here y'are."

Mccoy handed her the bloody knife, then lasered that bastard up.

* * *

Hope you liked the chapter! :D If you did and feel like leaving me a comment or a fav\follow I will love you c:

Site I use for my Vulcan: /vld/

Inspiration for Jaegerbomb Tuesday: post/109902238045

I can't remember which episode Jim had to lose 3lbs of fat in, but I find it funny.


	3. Lament For the Lone Redshirt

**The Lament for the Lone Redshirt**

Jim had quietly propped the King up in his chair and nobody had really noticed His Majesty was out cold. The talks were going well, apart from the Queen's continuous eyeballing. He just smiled and gazed, completely oblivious to the fact that his First Officer's ass was currently being dragged along the forest floor like a logical, humanoid plough. Although Spock's ass would have been a welcome distraction to the Captain right now.

"Captain, would you consider becoming a Prince of West Yalsiki?" Queen Rhet-Yule-An batted her long eyelashes. Well at least she was blinking, Jim thought.

"Consider it? My dear, it would be an honour." His perfect hair fluttered in delight. In this culture, it was like being a delegate, so it was indeed welcome. Little did sweet, innocent Jim know that this cougar was after some alien booty. After all, Queens can only marry Kings or Princes.

"Then I shall arrange your ceremony at once!" She'd have to kill the King, but that guy was so vacant nobody would really notice.

Yes, Queen Rhet-Yule-An had almost been so distracted by The Hair that she had almost forgotten about her bowl-cut prey. Almost. There would be no marriage if the Spock was still in the way to seduce Jim with his brain power. So she wended her way back to her boudoir.

"Oh Telepathic Reflector on the wall, who has the best intellect of them all?" Surely now, she would hear the answer that would secure Jim Kirk and his glorious hair as hers.

"You are clever my Queen, that is true, but Spock in the cottage of the woods is smarter than you." An image swam into view of that hideous bowl-cut and another man in a blue shirt. The new man seemed to either be throttling the Spock or pushing him back down into bed again. She waited with baited breath to see which. Alas, the human rose and brought bowl cut some water. Rggh! This was terrible! How had the Spock one escaped the Hunters? Never mind. She had a plan. Not foolproof, but the best at short notice. She picked up some poison powder and headed out the palace.

***.

Ah, behold. The lone redshirt in the wilderness. We do not often see one, as they are rare and have a life span of about several minutes.

"Ah, Queen Rhet-Yule-An!" The redshirt cried. "I have news for my Captain. Which way is the palace?"

An opportunity to return to the Blonde Hair of Glory quickly. "Hello there, little human! I have heard a human in your party is sick. Here is a robe that will heal them of all ailments. Take it to them now, and I shall pass on your message to the Captain."

She gave him the garment.

"Alright, but he's a Vulcan not human." Realization dawned over Queen Rhet-Yule-An's face.

The redshirt's lifespan is often due to its own poor judgement and the uncanny misfortune that follows them around. "Tell the Captain that we are at co-ordinates 8-3 6-1 and Commander Spock is injured, but Mccoy is looking after him. Indigenous flies ate our communicators and phasers."

"I will do just that. Now you run along!" With a shark-like smile, the Queen headed back toward the castle and told the Perfectly Haired one that his landing party's communicators had been eaten, but found a resort in the woods and would be staying there for the night. Jim lifted a suspicious eyebrow, an eyebrow that, unlike Spock and Mccoy's , had not yet killed a life-form. But he could not go out into the darkness alone to investigate.

The redshirt thought the robe looked nice. The redshirt tried on the robe. The redshirt died. The redshirt will be remembered in the annual Pour One Out For The Redshirts celebration that happens across the universe for the thousands of redshirts who have died serving aboard the Enterprise.

* * *

Sorry it's so short! I'm out of town at the moment, so more when I get back c:

If you liked it, I love to hear what y'all think as a comment or even just a follow\fav n.n  
Stay awesome my homies! c:


	4. Starfleet's Second Death Penalty

**Starfleet's Second Death Penalty is Revealed**

"I cannot presume who would want me dead." Spock's eyebrows, which had accidentally killed a Ferengi a couple of years back, creased. He twitched his hand away from Ensign Kiley, who was trying to hold it. No touchy touchy the Vulcan telepathic hands. If Spock had been a slightly less evolved Vulcan, he might have hissed.

"It was an animal attack, Spock. The Yalsikian Hunter wanted you dead." The sass alone could have hospitalized a regular man.

"Illogical. The primary weapon of a Yalsikian Hunter has never traditionally been a knife, Doctor." They had a brief moment of eyebrow warfare before Mccoy nodded and wondered whether to treat himself for that burn.

"Yeah, I suppose. Are you suggesting Jim might be in danger?"

The Vulcan began to rise, but a legendary hand pushed him down. There were mythology journals written about those hands. Hell, there were Space Edition Mills and Boons (or Mills and Bones to some very brave crew members of the Enterprise) Ebooks written about the talents of Bones' hands. A popular title was 'Doctor Sexy's Finger Fiasco and the Virgin Romulan'. Jim had many copies, which he lovingly brought out on various occasions, or displayed around the ship. Hence why stabbing Jim with a hypospray was fun.

"Sit down pointy-ears, I sent Kiley's friend to get the Captain."

"Doctor, with his position as a redshirt, Kiley's friend had a 5% chance of making it to the palace alive and a 10% chance of making it to the palace unharmed. We cannot rely on him." Spock's shredded shirt actually sewed itself back together from just being in close proximity to the legendary Doctor. All officers just stared at it for a second. Spock filed it as 'illogical'.

"Don't be so heartless Spock!" From somewhere in the distance they all thought they heard the far away, yet distinct cry of a dying redshirt. Or was that just the alien wind? "You ain't going anywhere till your rib's had time to fuse. And with my tender loving care – "

Spock's eyebrow almost blended into his nerdy bowl-cut.

"You'll be right as rain by tomorrow. So get to sleep before I have to sedate you." Mccoy waved a hypospray in an erratic and menacing way. Spock suddenly found that sleeping might be a very logical decision.

The Captain of the U.S.S Enterprise lay there, face naturally settled into a seductive smoulder as he slept. Little did he know that his smoulder was about to be regrettably broken by a terrifying alien cougar who had just stolen a lock of his perfect hair. Obviously Queen Rhet-Yule-An did not know that touching Jim Kirk's hair without permission was an offence punishable by death. In fact, it was one of the only death sentences still deployed in Starfleet, and nobody argued with it.

"Captain…"

Being the consummate seductress, Jim Kirk swallowed his scream of surprise as he woke up, and fixed a sultry smile on his face.

"What can I do for you, Queen?" A few questions raced through his high-speed brain. Why was the Queen in his bedroom? Had he done something he would most certainly regret? If Spock found out, would the Vulcan try and kill him with a footstool again? Which reminded him: the landing party was still in the woods.

"I thought I would bring you breakfast in bed." The alien lady purred like Sulu had as his brief stint as the Cheshire cat. Which was, by all definition, disturbing. "Your prince inauguration ceremony is soon, and…you'll need to keep up your strength."

Jim prayed to his perfect hair to distract her, and picked up a communicator. "Yes indeed. Forgive me if I contact my ship while I eat. They get worried about me, you know."

"Of course." Queen Rhet-Yule-An resumed her habit of staring at him with unblinking beige eyes. Kirk did not know why, but beige was such a disturbing colour.

"Kirk to Scotty."

"Yes Captain?"

"Can you give me the position of the landing party and their status?" He shot the Queen look of general suaveness.

"It's a little tricky withoot tha communicators, but I can report two human life signs besides yer own and one Vulcan."

"I see. Thank you Scotty." He snapped the communicator shut like Spock had once snapped and thrown a bowl of soup at the wall. One redshirt, it seemed, had met an untimely, yet not altogether unpredictable demise. "I should really go out and find them."

"Oh no, you have to have your ceremony, Captain! It won't take long!"

Well, if his First Officer had been here, he would have said that duty to Starfleet came first. So he sighed, slurped his breakfast and wondered why he was worrying; Mccoy could cure anything from humans to lava monsters, and Spock could calmly ram his fist through an Enterprise console if he wanted to. Spock could ram his fist into most things, really. Jim sighed in a distracted dream. Those guys would be fine.

He did not see the Queen's look of pure, bowl-cut-hating rage. The Captain's mind was concerned with other totally, very important things.

* * *

If you liked this chapter, why not leave a fav or even better, a comment to let me know you did! :D

Also: Would you guys be keen on reading my original works? It's sadly not Star Trek (I wish I could write ST for a living haha) , but it still has fun-as characters, the random humour, the sass and the homosexual tension. If you guys are keen, I'll put a link up sometime c:

Stay awesome n.n


	5. Spock Wants to be Bitchslapped

**Spock Wants to be Bitchslapped But Becomes the Bitchslapper**

Spock's little pointy ears twitched in his sleep like an expressionless, logical cat. Mccoy took his med-bag-cam out. It was a shame Vulcan skin was so sensitive, else he might have added a moustache to match those eyebrows. Little did he know what was going on in that alien mind.

"You treacherous alien scum!" Spock found himself face to face with Queen Rhet-Yule-An. Hm. It appeared she had a Telepathic Reflector. Fascinating. It didn't take even a twitch from Spock's logical brain (although perhaps a twitch from his logical ears, which made Mccoy simultaneous get and cure the hiccups) to figure out who his assailant had been. "I won't let you get away with this! I will be the most intelligent life form on this planet!"

"Judging by your now obvious, failed assassination attempts, it seems that you will be the most intelligent life form on this planet only when our landing party is gone. If that." What Spock might call a logical smirk crept on to his face as the Queen momentarily choked on his sass. Everyone else called it Spock's smarmy little shite face. Spock – 1, Queen – 0.

"You'll be the dead one, Spock the Vulcan! When you and the King are gone, I shall have Jim and his utterly perfect hair all to myself!" She turned to the Telepathic Reflector. These contraptions were powerful enough to combat his highly skilled abilities, and even overpower him. If, with her apparently extremely high intellect, she knew how to work it properly.

"Although I do agree with you about the Captain's illogically perfect hair, I must – "

"Aha! I knew it!" A crazed glint swept over those beige eyes. Beige. Spock did not approve of beige. "You want to steal him from me!"

Spock had a brief mental flash of himself clad in a balaclava with a squealing Jim over his shoulder as he ran from Mccoy brandishing a salad in one legendary hand and a hypospray in the other. Dreams were very illogical. Or it could have been a trauma flashback from a previous Jaegerbomb Tuesday. It was better to leave some certain chocolate-stained events in the past.

"To imply the act of stealing, one must also imply the act of owning. You do not own Jim, as I do not. It simply seems you have deluded yourself to believe so." Spock – 2 Queen – 0. The Telepathic Reflector could incapacitate him, so logically he had nothing to lose by infuriating her further.

"You bastard – "

"My parents are bonded."

" - inhuman – "

"Correct."

" – little – "

"I am quite tall for a humanoid."

" – thief!"

"I did once hi-jack the Enterprise. But that has been settled." If a Vulcan could look slightly shifty, Spock embodied this.

"You have logic-ed your last logic, Spock!"

Spock almost had an emotion in the form of an analytical giggle.

"If you mean I have made my last logical analysis, you are quite incorrect. I have just made one post-dating your claim, analysing that your statement is invalid, thus making your statement invalid." Spock- 6 Queen – 0. Perhaps Spock could draw this out until Mccoy became so worried about his sickly Vulcan Commander that he bitch-slapped Spock out of this dream. One of Mccoy's more questionable methods, but it had worked on that pregnant Capellan female. In fact Spock ruminated that Bones' legendary hands had actually bitchslapped an original unhealthy baby into another dimension and simultaneously backhanded a healthy baby from the other dimension into the mother's womb. Or so mythology went.

On second thoughts, perhaps he did not want the good Doctor to slap him. It may create a multi-dimensional rift. And they all knew how annoying those were.

"Goodbye, bowl-cut." Queen Rhet-Yule-An pressed a command sequence on the Telepathic Reflector. The beam halted, momentarily and mathematically dazzled by Spock's fantastic eyebrow game, but the Power of the Eyebrows was weakened in dream state. Even that could not save the Science Officer now. If he could somehow transmit what was going on…if there was someone near him…Spock focussed all his telepathic energy on his body and prayed to Jim's flawless hair that it worked.

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A/N: Hope you enjoy this chapter guys! I'd love to hear what you think :)

Mccoy slapped a pregnant woman in Friday's Child.

Inspiration for Jaegerbomb Tuesday here

You will see how Spock becomes the Bitchslapper next episode :P


	6. Doctor Mccoy Is The Ultimate Wingman

**Doctor Mccoy is the Ultimate Wingman**

Mccoy had actually been on the brink of either hypospraying or bitchslapping Spock. A little too late had he realized Vulcan ear tremors meant an unnatural dream state or mind distress. And then Spock had suddenly given him the Vulcan Mind Slap or whatever the hell that had been; the Commander's hand had spasmed and literally smacked some information into his head. True, he'd ended up on the other side of the room, but he probably deserved it for taking that cute video of Spock's wiggling ears.

"My god man!" From his readings, all of the Science Officer's systems had gone into permanent hibernation. He didn't know whether to weep like Kiley was currently doing or sing for goddamn joy. Looked like somebody had found a way to shut that infernal logic machine up. Too bad Spock was his and Jim's infernal logic machine. Whoever had done this was either gonna get a hypospray up the ass or Jim-wrecking-ball-Kirk flying at them from a darkened corridor like a massive bird that thinks it can fly but can't. The sound of heroic, jostling abs and hooves brought Doctor Mccoy out of his murderous reverie.

"Captain!" How the kiddo slid off his Yalsikian Mount without tearing his pants on its spines escaped Mccoy. But then again, the Captain's pants weren't made like the Captain's shirts. Hell, you could gently stroke one of them tops and it would rip open to reveal Jim's well-formed chesticles. Bones had started to suspect that they'd run out of actual Captain's shirts long ago and Jim was just using strip-club replicas. Well, whatever kept those wild chesticles at bay, he supposed.

"That's Prince to you, Bones! Just had my inauguration." Well whoop de hoo, first Vulcan Mind Slapped by Spock and now Smarmy-Little-Shite-Smile wanted his Royal ass kissed.

"Well come this way, Your Highness and perhaps your Royal ass can help me fix Spock." Well that wiped the smile off his dial.

"Spock? What happened to Spock?" Prince Charming marched past him into the cottage. There, lying upon the table in a uniform of science blue (much inferior to the incredibly aesthetically pleasing medical blue) lay his first officer. Hair as black as ebony, skin as white as snow and eyebrows as sharp as the knife Mccoy had yanked out of his shoulder. "Bones?!"

"Calm your man-tits Prince Jim, and listen up." Kiley wept over Spock's prone form in the background. "Before he was completely gone, Spock gave me some information. Whoever did this to him knew he was a Vulcan and therefore is using an some sort of emotional telepathic bind on him. I've taken several medical scans and…"

"Well, spit it out Doc." Jim looked down on his First Officer's totally expressionless face. Spock did nothing in a very logical manner.

"Well from what Spock told me, the only way to break the coma is to have mouth-to-mouth contact with someone he has deep emotional attachment to." Call it Mccoy's natural remedying instinct or just plain hope, but he was pretty sure what to do. He could barely contain his glee. Finally. The Moment. "Since Spock's assailant presumed him fully Vulcan with little or no emotions, it seemed pretty logical, to coin a phrase. But I think we all know better, hmm your Royal Prince Captain?"

"Well, erm – "

"Oh, of course!" Kiley threw herself over Spock and planted a solid kiss on those comatosed Vulcan lips. She drew back, eyes full of hope. Spock just lay there like a logical sack of potatoes."How can this be?!"

The redshirt fled the building, tears splashing Jim's uniform like a wet-t-shirt contest. Dammit man, couldn't Mccoy go anywhere with the Captain without aggressive nipples popping out left right and sometimes even centre? No.

"Well I ain't gonna kiss Spock." They looked at each other. Alien crickets chirped.

"Ok Jim, there's something I didn't tell you." He beckoned Prince Perfect Hair over. If you gotta do something right, as they say… "Can you see that?"

"See what, Bones, what?" Jim shifted closer to Spock and gently caressed him with his gaze. Luckily Jim couldn't hear the eye-roll of his ultimate wingman.

"Right there on the side of his face. You gotta get closer, unless you want me to beam down a microscope." Under threat of a menacing eyebrow, the Prince got closer to his second Officer's face.

"Bones, I don't – "

"Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

Jim was silenced as Mccoy literally pushed his Captain and First Officer's lips together. He let go, and to very much his utter satisfaction Jim didn't punch him into next week. In fact, the Captain Lingered. Oh, he Lingered. Lingered like a thirsty man at a goddamn oasis.

Spock awakened to what seemed to be the most logical moment of his entire life. A very, very logical moment. The Captain's warm lips pressed against his, the soft trace of his fingers on Spock's palm in another kind of kiss…Then the Vulcan saw Mccoy, who looked as though he were about to break out into some sort of traditional Earth celebratory dance.

"Captain, what are you doing?" He stared into those eyes for a wonderfully logical amount of seconds. Yes. Very logical.

"Uuuuuh, Mccoy wanted to teach me how to do old fashioned CPR…and we thought you were dead…so he said I could practise on you." The buhfik shok trensu Captain seemed to be talking in the same manner as when he had told that 1930's policeman about how Spock's ears were an unfortunate accident involving a mechanical rice-picker and a convenient plastic surgeon. His complexion seemed more red. Spock hoped his cheeks were not tinged green. That would be inappropriate.

In the background, Mccoy thought they made a perfect, Christmas-themed match.

"Captain, I have some vital information that is invaluable to our mission on Yalsiki 6." The Vulcan cleared his throat, and slid off the table. "It concerns the Queen."

"Well, we must get back to the palace then!" Jim also cleared his throat and shot Mccoy a look of 'Never Tell Anybody Of This Or I Will Wrecking Ball Tackle You To Death In A Corridor'.

"Ahh, you two go on ahead. I'll find Kiley and go to the beam-up point." It was not often Bones had to force down a smile.

"That, ahem, seems logical."

They exited and Bones pretty much did a Do-Si-Do of delight. Damn, sometimes he just loved being a doctor.

* * *

Here is the beauty of Jim-wrecking-ball Kirk c:  
The mechanical rice-picker ear lie incident happened in The City on the Edge of Forever :D

Vulcan is here

Also: My stats\views\graphs aren't working. They come up with N/A for all my works. Does anybody why and how to fix? I'd really appreciate n.n  
Stay awesome and fav\follow is you like! :D


	7. Jim Admires the Enterprise

**Jim Admires the Perfection of the Enterprise**

So Spock pulled up the memory banks on the Telepathic Reflector, the Queen was arrested and they all beamed back to the Enterprise with a good relationship with the Yalsikians under the belt.

"But Captain, I still don't understand how you brought Spock out of his coma!" Kiley looked between Jim, Mccoy and Spock, wild thoughts racing through her brain as they entered on to the bridge. Mccoy briefly wondered whether she would join the ship-wide bet on whether Spock or Jim would get together. A betting ring entirely run by the good doctor, of course.

"What can I say? If Doctor Mccoy can't cure it, no-one can." Jim smiled, and Mccoy gave a glorious eye-roll. More like if Jim and Spock's repressed gay love for each other couldn't cure it, then nothing could.

"Doctor, are you trying to observe Jim's ego again?" The emotionless Vulcan gave a smirk. Jim Kirk whipped around like the dramatic prairie dog of the 21st Century viral video. What Mccoy had really been looking for were the last dregs of his own sanity and the remaining atoms that represented Jim's heterosexuality.

"Y'know, if you keep making expressions like that Spock, you're on your way to being a good human." As a physician, he should probably prescribe some medication for that sick burn.

"I see no pretext for rudeness, doctor."

The Captain looked as though he were watching a tennis match.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I hurt your feelings?" It was Mccoy's turn for a smarmy smirk as Sulu either hacked up a hairball from his previous cat experience, or smothered a laugh.

"Feelings? I do not see why I should stand here and be insulted. Captain, I believe I am needed at my station." As the Vulcan retreated, Mccoy felt like doing a victory Do-Si-Do for the second time that day. Some of the crew members subtly passed Credit IOU's for the outcome of the Sass Match. Well, he may as well push his luck while he was on a roll.

"Jim, can I ask you something?"

"You just did." The eyebrow of Mccoy darkened, just as it had those many years ago when it had slain a Romulan. "Alright what is it?"

"Why is Spock's scanner the only one without a chair? It can't be good for his back, you know."

"Well, so he can bend over and take the readings, of course." Jim seemed oblivious to the encouraging eyebrow raise. "His…back looks pretty fine to me. It's standard procedure."

"Thanks for your medical opinion, Jim. Couldn't we have just fitted the scanner lower down like Sulu's?"

"Mccoy, if you have a problem with the interior of my Starship, take it up with Scotty or Starfleet. I think she's perfect how she is." The smarmy little shite slapped on a contented smile and looked over to where Spock was bending over, taking readings. Or where Spock's perky Vulcanian ass was perfectly angled towards the Captain's chair. "Sulu, take us out of orbit, ahead Warp Factor 1."

Whoops, I updated this late. Haha, here's the end though! Cheers to all of you c:


End file.
